Military
by autumnangelwrites
Summary: Bruce realizes that the Joker might actually have a point, and that realization is the most terrifying thing he's faced all night.


**_a/n:_** _Hey guys! Sorry about the delay. I'm behind a prompt, so I'll double up today and try to upload two stories tomorrow. Unfortunately, I can't promise this won't happen again, since my summer classes are wrapping up soon. Between taking finals and getting ready to move back into my apartment for band camp, I'm going to be a little busy. I'll try my best to keep to a schedule, though! Thanks for all the feedback on my little ficlets!_

 _This one is super short, and definitely not what my roommate had in mind when she gave me the prompt, but I like how it turned out. Happy reading!_

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 **7\. Military**

Bruce knew not to dwell on the things that were rambled at him in the heat of battle. The villains of Gotham were all known as somewhat insane at the very least, and Bruce's goal had always been to stop them rather than to understand them. He prowled the night, captured his adversaries, threw them in prison, and repeated the cycle. The taunts that came with the job were expected and ignored.

Well, most of the time.

" _Oh look, it's the Bat! Where's your army of children, Batsy?"_

If Bruce _were_ to listen to any of Gotham's villains, the Joker would be the lowest on the list. It was ironic, then, that the ostentatious manic was exactly the one that broke through Batman's defenses.

Army of children. Bruce didn't _have_ an army of children. He had partners, highly trained and intelligent partners, who _willingly_ fought for him. The insinuation that Batman went recruiting, then blindly ordered his cohorts into danger was ridiculous. If anything, Bruce made his partners restrain themselves! How many times had Dick flipped into a situation before checking his surroundings first? How many times had Jason mouthed off to the wrong villain? How many times had Tim relied too heavily on schematics and not enough on instinct? How many times had Stephanie leaped at the slightest provocations? How many times had Damian stumbled in over his head because he had overestimated his skill? Bruce was _protecting_ these children.

Except the idea wouldn't leave him.

 _Army of children._

Bruce sagged back into his desk chair, alone in the Cave for once. He twisted the slightest bit to stare at the brightly lit showcases. He had put them up to remind himself of the dangers of this job, and to honor those that had fought for the cause. Now, it looked startlingly like a memorial.

 _Army of children. He had created an army of children._

The more Bruce dwelled on it, the more he worried. It hadn't been his intention, but hadn't that been the end result? Half of his children had died—or at least faked a pretty convincing death—and the ones that hadn't had at least been injured. Barbara was wheelchair bound for the rest of her life. Tim and Cass had left him before Gotham could choke the life out of them. Dick and Jason had been taken by Bruce's adversaries, and Damian had been sacrificed to _prove a point._ His children were seen as replaceable. After all, there places could always be taken by new recruits, right?

What kind of person did that make Bruce? He thought he was changing their lives. He thought he was the guiding force that they needed. Of course, that's exactly what everyone said about the men and women that entered into the service. The parallels were startling.

Jason's epitaph had seemed so appropriate at the time. "A Good Soldier." It was everything Jason had aspired to be, and Bruce had emblazoned his case with those words because it was the only way he could think of to express how proud he was of Jason. The little dead boy that had only wanted Bruce to save him. The boy who had died in battle. The first of many.

 _Dear God,_ Bruce thought, scrubbing his face with his hands. The guilt gnawed at his stomach and his body filled with dread. _I've created an army of children._

Even with his face covered, Bruce could feel the empty masks glaring at him accusingly through the glass case.

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 _And then Alfred walks in with milk and cookies and pulls Bruce out of his little angst session. The end._


End file.
